Maddie Dreams
by Lucinda
Summary: Maddie Pryor-Summers dreams, but she can't always talk about her dreams with her husband...
1. Fire

author: Lucinda

rated T for teen

main character: Maddie Summers-Pryor

disclaimer: I hold no legal rights to Maddie, Scott or any other characters from Marvel Comics. They belong to Marvel Entertainment, Stan Lee and an assortment of past and present Marvel writers.

distribution: PEJA, Luba, Mental Wanderings - anyone else ask first.

notes: canon divergent pre-Inferno.

...

Maddie dreamed of fire, and of flight. Falling through the air wreathed in flames. Except... in the dream, she wasn't screaming, or afraid, she was laughing. Laughing as she twirled through the air, her hair flowing over her shoulders, hands reaching out to grab the air. Utterly certain that she was safe, that she was in no danger – that she was free. It was a freedom that she couldn't enjoy in her waking life, bound by duty, and schedules, and gravity.

Dreaming of fire wasn't unusual for Maddie. It happened often, at least once a week, sometimes more. Sometimes they were bad dreams, of screaming and falling, surrounded by a fire that sought to keep her away from everything else even as it burned her, a fire that seemed to think. Sometimes she dreamed of things burning.

She'd been told that she'd been involved in a plane crash, one with flames and plentiful injuries. Told that this crash had left her in the hospital for 'quite a while' and was the cause of both her childhood memories feeling fuzzy and vague as well as the gap between her prom - there had been a deep green dress, or perhaps teal? - and waking up in the hospital with Dr. Essex helping her recover. The nurses had agreed that her crash was probably why she kept dreaming of falling and fire.

Dr. Essex had explained the memory gap as trauma induced amnesia. Perfectly normal. He'd even helped her make arrangements to relocate to Anchorage, so she could start over without reminders of her previous life. Dr. Essex had murmured that a fresh start could help her heal, help her build a life without reminders of the past.

Except that Maddie wasn't sure that she believed him.

Maddie didn't have any scars. Not one from falling out of a tree and breaking her arm like she almost remembered, not one from stepping on broken glass left on the tiles by a sandy haired boy beside a swimming pool. None from this alleged awful plane crash that had supposedly left her comatose for a while and then with partial amnesia. None, anywhere on her body.

Her husband didn't mind when she dreamed of fire and falling, when she woke up frightened and needing comfort and reassurance. She suspected that it made him feel much better when he could be the one to comfort her, to calm her racing heart and wild fears. Scott was always so pleased to help chase away the bad dreams, calling her his marvel, and his wonderful, marvelous girl.

Some of that comforting might well be how they'd wound up with little Nathan Christopher. With his brown curls and bright blue eyes and tiny dimple, Maddie thought he was the most adorable baby in the whole state. Though she did consider that she might be a little biased.

They both liked the idea of building a family together. Neither had great pasts, both of them orphans with no relatives, or at least not close enough to count. But together, they could build a new family, a father for guidance, a nurturing mother, and bright, inquisitive, wonderful children. So far they had Nathan Christopher, but she thought that she'd like him to have younger brothers and sisters. Maybe three or four more children... The idea of a warm, large, loving family made Maddie feel happy inside, like slipping into a fuzzy robe in front of the fireplace.

She'd learned that Scott didn't like it when she talked about the good flying dreams, not unless there was an airplane involved. Any dreams of free flight - of soaring through the air unsupported, feeling the wind in her face, tugging at her hair and spilling through her fingers like silk ribbons - made him go tense and quiet. He didn't say anything to her about them, but if she mentioned them he didn't say much of anything at all. It bothered her when he went so quiet, feeling like some sort of wound had been opened up inside. Like she'd done something wrong, swatted some hidden emotional wound.

Maddie had given up on trying to control her dreams. Actually, she rather liked the dreams of flight. She had just decided not to talk about them anymore. Not to her friends, not to her husband Scott, who was somehow everything she'd never known she wanted in a man.

Slipping out of the bed she shared with her husband, Maddie shook her head and went to check on her son. He was sleeping quietly, all curled up with his little bottom in the air and his thumb in his mouth. Smiling, Maddie tugged the blanket over him, not wanting her darling to get too cold.

"They aren't bad dreams, Nathan. They feel... good. Like I'm free," Maddie whispered. "What's wrong with dreaming about feeling so happy, so free?"

Her sleeping infant son didn't answer.

Maybe the dreams represented her rising above the crash, above the disasters and problems of her life. Especially the ones lost to that blankness. Maybe it was some sort of hidden symbolism. Or maybe she just needed to stop staring at the fireplace before going to bed.

"We're building a new life here, a good one," Maddie whispered. "Scott and I don't need to be bound by our pasts, we can make a better future. Together."

She smiled as she tried to picture Nathan older, running and asking for a puppy, with a little brother toddling after, maybe with a red cast to the brother's hair. And her watching and holding a little girl with a tuft of brownish red curls, a dimple as she sucked on her fingers.

"Everything will be perfect." Her words were half plea and half promise.

Maddie dreamed of fire again when she slept.

end Maddie Dreams: Fire.


	2. Betrayal

...

In her dream, Maddie was in the middle of a city of towering skyscrapers, unlike anything that she could remember. In many ways, it reminded her of New York, but there were some substantial differences. The buildings were made of people, writhing and screaming. The sky was full of smoke, and it should have seared at her eyes, caught in her throat. She should have felt alarmed at all the strange creatures that were not humans scurrying about.

But she didn't.

Even stranger was the appearance of her in the dream. She could see herself in one of the large windows, and in the dream, she knew this was herself, was Maddie. Her hair was longer, rippling and falling to her waist in not quite curls, not quite like fire. She wore a strange dark blue top with long sleeves, cropped off just below her breasts and fastening at the throat with a large, gaudy golden clasp. Below that was... honestly it looked more like a dark blue pair of rags, hanging in tattered triangles to not quite her knees, caught up by sheer determination. Most unlike her was the expression, angry, cruel...

The huge inhuman creature lurking behind her like some sort of demonic thug didn't help. Whoever - whatever - it was, he looked like he should be asking if she wanted him to break some knees as a message.

Scott wasn't there, wasn't with her.

The giant thug was talking to Maddie in the dream, whispering about how this would give her power, would give her revenge. Would make all of them pay.

Maddie had no idea who she would want revenge on. Or why her hair was so long. Long hair like that... it didn't look like her, like Maddie, at all.

Long hair like that looked like Jean. Scott's dead girlfriend Jean.

Why had she never realized how similar they looked? Both tall redheads with green eyes.

Did that resemblance have anything to do with why Scott had gone out with her? Why they'd started dating? Why he'd married her?

Maddie wanted her husband, wanted him to appear and tell her that this dream was nonsense, that everything would be all right. That there was no giant thug. No tattered blue skirts. No buildings made from screaming people.

That he loved her for herself, and not because she looked like Jean.

Maddie twisted in her bed, feeling the covers wrap around her, trapping her.

In her dream, Maddie heard a familiar voice, a wonderful voice.

"I see her! She's right over there!"

Why did Scott sound so angry?

Scott appeared in her dream, running down one of the streets between screaming buildings, clad in a blue and yellow uniform, his visor covering half of his face instead of the familiar red sunglasses. Beside him ran Hank, as blue and fuzzy as before, but lacking his warm smile or slightly confusing rambling about chemistry and molecular composition.

Worst of all was the woman running beside Scott. A tall redhead in green, a yellow X accentuating her hips. The little mask couldn't hide her identity from Maddie. Jean was running beside Scott.

Jean and Scott were holding hands as they ran towards Maddie.

Twisting in the bed, Maddie murmured, "but she's dead..."

Dream-Maddie with her long hair glared at Scott and his beautiful, no longer dead girlfriend. "I should have known you would leave me because of her. It's always been her."

"You can't do this, Maddie!" Scott shouted, his visor glowing.

The burned out hulk of a car was flung towards Maddie. Twisted figures had leapt at the trio, snarling and flailing with long claws, hissing "You will not harm the princess!"

Maddie really didn't understand that part. She'd been many things, but never a princess. Unless maybe one of those forgotten Halloweens had involved a princess costume?

In the time between the twisted minions - Maddie's minions? - attacking them, Scott and Jean gave each other a long, passionate kiss.

Jean spoke to Scott, her words carrying despite being no more than a whisper. "Don't worry, Scott. Once we get rid of her, then we can be a family. Just you, me, and N.C. together. The way it should always have been."

Maddie screamed.

She was still screaming, awake in her bed, covers tangled around her as the house itself seemed to shake.

When Maddie fell from the bed, landing with a bump on the floor, she stopped screaming. The house was still shaking, and she could hear something break in the other room. A lamp, perhaps. Things rattled and fell from dressers, the plates and cups were clattering in the kitchen.

Maddie's screaming eased into horrible sobs, and the house's shaking subsided. That dream... nightmare... it was horrible.

And Scott wasn't here. He'd had something that he needed to do for work... At least, that's what he'd told her he needed to do. And Jean was dead, damn it all.

"She's dead... he can't leave me... to go back to her..." Maddie whispered between sobs. She couldn't quite manage to convince herself.

Everything that Maddie had ever read about psychology or dream analysis suggested that this dream was a visual, painful way to rip open her fears about her marriage. That she felt like a substitute for Jean. Her fear that if there were ever a choice between herself of Jean, Scott would pick Jean. That she felt there was something horrible, something ugly and twisted and wrong in her life.

Even if Jean was dead, Maddie still felt like she was in second place to her. Worse, with Jean dead, how could the perfect image of her ever be tarnished?

Could she trust her husband? Could she trust in their relationship?

Maddie desperately wanted the answer to be yes.

She was terrified that the answer was no.

Untangling herself from the covers, Maddie knew that she'd never be able to go back to sleep after that. She went to pick up her son, crying from a combination of his mother screaming and the house shaking.

After that would be the slow process of putting the house back into order.

She didn't pay attention to the way things straightened on their shelves without her touching them. Or the way that the crack in the window seemed to seal itself back up. Perhaps she missed those details through her tears.

end Maddie Dreams: Betrayal


	3. Attempted Comfort

Scott Summers hadn't expected anything unusual when he returned home. The room looked subtly different, as if things had been moved and put back not quite where they had been before. Some of the small knick-nacks on the shelves were gone, with the small trash can empty. And Maddie was holding a broken lamp, crying. That really made everything else seem inconsequential.

Moving towards her, he called, "Maddie? Honey, what's wrong?"

"I... I had a nightmare, and there..." Maddie looked at the lamp, "There must have been an earthquake."

"An earthquake? In Alaska?" Scott blinked, trying to figure out why Maddie would be making such a statement. Of all the things to blame a messy house on, why an earthquake? The house didn't even look that messy, and he hadn't felt anything that might have been an earthquake from town.

"We do get them around here, and something seems to have shaken the house. Things fell on the floor, some of the little fragile shattered, this lamp broke, the dishes rattled... Doesn't that sound like an earthquake to you? If you didn't feel it in town, it must have been a small one." Maddie countered.

"I suppose it does," Scott admitted, even though part of him still wanted to insist that if it was strong enough to shake the house then he should have felt it in town. "Now what's this about a nightmare?"

"You'll think it's silly," Maddie was still looking at the lamp. Not at him, but the broken lamp. It bothered him that she wouldn't look at him.

Scott walked over, sliding his arm around her shoulders, "Maddie, you're my wife. Even if the dream was silly, it's obvious that it bothered you."

"But it's silly, and it could never happen - I know it couldn't happen. It would be impossible. So I shouldn't let it bother me..." A few more tears slipped down Maddie's cheeks.

"Telling yourself that it was silly and impossible obviously isn't helping," Scott murmured.

"You left me. Abandoned me and N.C. to go back to New York," Maddie sniffled, letting herself lean against his shoulder.

"Why would I do that? I married you," Scott didn't understand why she was so upset. He didn't plan to leave her - didn't ever plan to leave her, but while that sounded absurd, it wasn't in the realm of impossible to happen.

"You left me because Jean wasn't dead anymore, so you went back to her. People don't come back from the dead, which make the whole thing impossible..." Maddie mumbled.

Shame and guilt stabbed through Scott, as he was flooded with the reality that so many of the things that had first attracted him to Maddie were traits that she shared with Jean. One of his earliest thoughts about Maddie had been to think of her as someone much like a vulnerable Jean... Someone that he could be strong for, someone who might need him in a way that Jean didn't need anybody.

He could never tell Maddie that he'd first been interested in her as someone so very much like Jean. The knowledge would break her heart. Then she'd kill him. And he'd deserve it.

"People don't come back from the dead. Even with all the powers that we've seen different mutants possess, dead is... well, dead." Scott tried to hug Maddie as best he could around the lamp.

"It was a dream." Maddie shook her head, the short locks of her hair bouncing.

"You're my wife, I'm not going to leave you, leave our home, our family," Scott whispered.

"Jean wasn't dead anymore, so you went back... back to New York, back to her." Maddie sniffled, and then whispered, "And the pair of you were going to take N.C. away from me so you could have your family... a family without me."

"No... Maddie, that's..." Scott couldn't find the words. Impossible and never going to happen and dear God how upsetting a dream like that must have been tumbled through his mind, tripping before they reached his tongue.

She shook her head, "I've been trying to tell myself that it was just a dream. Just an awful dream that it wouldn't... couldn't happen."

"I'm here with you. We have a life together, a son. I'm not going to give that up, not going to give up what we have together," Scott pried the lamp from her hands, dropping it to the floor. "I have a life with you, Maddie."

Scott tried to tell himself that he loved Maddie for herself. That while it had been her resemblance to Jean that had first attracted him, her own traits had kept him. That he loved her for herself and not for reminding him of Jean in so many ways.

In that moment, he was glad that Maddie wasn't a telepath like Jean. And he hated himself for being glad that this was something she didn't share with Jean

Thinking of the things he loved about Maddie, he cringed inside when he realized how many of them were traits that she shared with Jean. How many others were things that he couldn't swear differed. In that moment, Scott realized that it would be so very easy to hate himself. Because Maddie deserved better. She deserved a husband who could be certain that he loved her for Maddie, and not for reminding him in so many ways of their dead girlfriend. Someone who could cherish her.

And he hated that he wasn't that man.

He still couldn't imaging ever giving her up. Which made him a possessive ass... but she was his. He would just have to become the better man, the one that loved her for herself. To value and appreciate her for herself, and not for reminding him of Jean. Because Maddie deserved that. And Jean was dead.

"I'm not leaving you," Scott whispered.

end Maddie Dreams: Attempted Comfort.


	4. Despair

...

Maddie tried to forget her dream. Not one of the ones about fire and falling, not the one about being chased by laughing robot clowns with flamethrowers and buzz-saws - which just sounded silly when she tried to explain it, but it absolutely terrified her when she dreamed it. No, she'd dreamed that Scott had packed his bags and gone away, with a shrug and a 'Jean was always the one for me.'

It had hurt, playing right into her own insecurities. The down right creepy amount of resemblance between herself and the late Jean Grey didn't help. If they hadn't looked so much alike, her fears would be easier to push aside. But there were times when she wondered if she was just a replacement for Jean. Someone close enough, since the one he really wanted was dead.

A consolation prize.

She hated those feelings. Hated the worry, the fear, the way those dreams could leave her gut quivering and her eyes filled with tears. She was supposed to be a capable, confident woman, one with a career, someone who'd been standing on her own, independent. Except that her memories were very patchy up to a few months before she'd met Scott. She could barely remember being the confident, independent woman that she'd been told Madelyn Pryor had been.

She didn't like that either. She'd searched for all sorts of ways to try to bring back the memories that were supposedly buried by the crash. None of it had worked, though she could meditate and put her breathing into a calm pattern regardless of how upset she felt. No help for her memory, but it might be good for her blood pressure.

Maddie had noticed something the last few times that she'd meditated. A few tiny objects had been floating. She'd been making them float. She was trying to bring herself to the point where she could do that without being almost in a meditative trance, but it didn't always work. And she hadn't tried lifting anything larger than a marble.

But she'd lifted that marble. More than once.

She was telekinetic. Not powerful, and nowhere near skilled. But... the ability was there, was showing itself.

Maddie hadn't told Scott. Didn't intend to tell Scott, not now or ever. Because Jean had been telekinetic. A powerful, skilled telekinetic capable of doing amazing, marvelous things. She didn't want anything else that was like Jean. Especially not something where she would come up so terribly lacking in comparison to the perfect, dead Jean Grey.

She couldn't explain it either. Didn't that sort of ability generally show up around puberty? Maybe as late as fifteen or sixteen? She was long past that age, if she had any sort of genetic mutation, shouldn't it have become apparent years ago? After all, she had a whole life behind her, even if she couldn't remember it... didn't she?

It was absurd to think that a mutation would only be manifesting now. Unless it had been there before, and suppressed by the accident? She didn't even know if that was possible, or who she could ask.

Well, maybe Professor Xavier would know, or be able to make an educated guess. Except that contacting Xavier meant the X-Men, meant all of Scott's old friends, meant all the memories of Jean and mutants fighting... All the things they had left behind to make a life together.

No, she wouldn't be asking Professor Xavier.

She just wished that she could lay these fears to rest. That she would be able to say, firmly and without doubts, that Scott loved her for Maddie, not for being a copy of Jean. That he was committed to her, to their family. That Scott didn't wish it was Jean in his arms at night.

But no matter how many times she tried to tell herself that her fears were silly, they remained. Every time she saw Scott looking at the box that held his old uniform, when he thought she wouldn't see him, it fed her fears. Every time he called her marvelous, it made her wonder if he saw her, or if he saw Jean. Every time she told herself that she was strong, that she'd lived on her own, that awful gap in her memories taunted her, making her wonder how she could prove that. How she could prove anything.

But Nathan Christopher was real. Her job here and now was real. This fledgling ability to float marbles was weak, unsteady and not much use, but real. Her love and determination to take care of her son was real. Love had to be stronger than fear, it just had to.

She said nothing of her doubts to Scott. Nothing about her fears that he only saw her as a second chance with Jean. Nothing about how much her memory gaps bothered her.

Instead she talked about how there was nothing good on the television. How there was a very opinionated ratio music host who swore that he'd found the next greatest rock band. How she thought Nathan was starting to get a tooth. How their neighbor Karina was juggling two handsome boyfriends, and thought she might have to pick one of them soon, or else give in and ask them to share. Scott laughed at that one.

Maddie had no idea why it suddenly filled her with dread when the telephone rang. She wanted to cover her ears and demand that Scott not touch it. She was certain that it would be something terrible, something that would turn her world upside down. Turning to her son, Maddie tried to remember to breath, to keep from glaring at the phone, to keep from asking why her husband had answered it.

She didn't hear what Scott said. Barely noticed as he sank to the couch, perched on the edge of the cushion. Sat there, having hung up the phone, staring at the wall.

It took her too long to form words. To ask, in a voice far too weak and shaky, "Scott? Who was on the phone?"

He sounded dazed as he answered, "That was the Professor."

Maddie didn't have to ask which professor. To Scott, there was only one person who was the Professor – Charles Xavier. Her feeling of dread grew, like a snowball moving downhill in her stomach. "What did he say?"

"He said… they found… it shouldn't have been possible, but Richards is a genius. They found… its Jean." Scott's words were barely coherent.

Maddie felt like she couldn't breathe. All her fears were rising up, trying to swallow her whole. All her fears, all her doubts and nightmares… She knew what he was going to say, no matter how crazy, how impossible. "Jean? But…"

"She's alive."

Maddie had no words. Tears began to leak from her eyes, wetting her cheeks. All those awful, impossible dreams… Jean was back. Alive again. Perfect, wonderful Jean that had always been her husband's first choice… She didn't have the courage to ask what would happen now. To give him the chance to tell her what all those dreams painted as the next step. To give him the opening to tell her that he would be going to New York, leaving her. Going back to Jean.

So this was what it felt like to have your heart break.

End Maddie Dreams: Despair.


	5. Choices

...

Maddie sat in the rocking chair holding Nathan, who had fallen asleep. She didn't know what her husband would do - she wasn't even certain if Scott knew what he would do. But her son, her adorable, perfect baby Nathan loved her. Nathan wouldn't want to leave her behind for some other redhead that shared some similar features. Wouldn't leave her behind like a boring dream in the light of day.

She knew that Scott had loved Jean before he'd even met her. Jean would always hold a place in his heart and his memories. She just didn't know if the place in Scott's heart for Maddie was big enough to keep him here instead of returning to Jean, returning to Westchester and the excitement of life among the X-Men. To the friends of his youth and the excitement of being a hero.

Scott had married her, had promised her the rest of their lives together. Would he keep that promise? Or would he return to his first love, a woman miraculously returned from the dead? How could an amnesic pilot, even if she was his wife and the mother of his child, compete with a heroic first love, returned from the dead?

If Scott did stay with her, would it be out of love and devotion to her and Nathan, or would it be out of duty? Would he come to resent her and Nathan for keeping him here? For keeping him from adventure and excitement? Keeping him from his first love? Would he resent her for not being Jean? Did he even realize that he still compared her to Jean all the time?

Would she even want him to stay if it was just for duty and not for love? Would she be able to tell the difference? Would she even want to know, if he said the right things, if he was there for love or for duty?

Maddie couldn't even be certain if she wanted to know the true answer. Actually knowing the answer was another step beyond that.

She didn't let herself reach towards Scott as she drifted to sleep. It would only hurt if he ignored her, as he did when he got all broody. Let alone the pain it caused when he'd be asleep, or mostly that way, and mutter Jean...

Maddie knew that she was dreaming. She could see a cord, like twisted fire , behind her into darkness. Ahead of her, the cord frayed apart, not into a few strands, but into many, each fraying into still more as it went ahead. Mist seemed to swirl around the fraying strands, keeping her from seeing where they went.

"You are not precisely here." The figure looked short, with a large head and unblinking huge eyes. The blue skin and odd toga and cloak combination seemed quite surreal.

Maddie considered the figure, wondering how she had dreamed this... this blue not-Roman whatever he was. "I know that I'm dreaming. But... what is the cord? What does it mean?"

The strange blue man sighed, "You see it as a cord... I suppose that makes sense. The cord represents your life, and the events. Behind you has already taken place. Before you are possibilities. Hundreds, thousands, some dependant on the choices that you make, others dependant on the choices of other humans, and still others dependant on natural events beyond your control. In some, there will be a strong earthquake near your home. In others, there will be meteorites. Choices about staying where you are or moving to other locations. So many, many possibilities..."

"Which one is the right choice?" Maddie peered at the threads, gold and red and orange and blue and some that looked like fire.

"Define 'the right choice.' Before such a valuation can be made, you must determine your standards," the blue man tilted his large head.

"You're saying the best choice for me might not be the best choice for Scott, or for Nathan," Maddie whispered.

"There are some possibilities that lead to your tragic demise. Others lead to lives... I believe the saying is filled with excitement and drama. Others are less dramatic, but longer. As for your son, there are several paths that lead to your tragic demise. In many, he also suffers, and in a few, he becomes a powerful and respected warrior. There are other possibilities where he does not gain so much power, but is... happy."

"Are there possibilities where I raise Nathan, and he grow up to be happy? Where we can both be happy?" Maddie whispered.

"Some. A few even have his father staying with you," the blue man replied. "Scott has his own choices to make."

"And he might choose to leave me. If he does, would he take Nathan, or leave him with me? Is Nathan more likely to be happy?" Maddie knew that she should be upset - perhaps raging, perhaps sobbing with tears running down her face. But this was all a dream, wasn't it?

"There are possibilities for any of those." The blue man hesitated, and then, in a voice barely above a whisper, added, "If he does not stay, there are still possibilities for you to be happy. His departure need not send you into despair and destruction."

"I can't make him choose, but I can survive, can deal with whatever choice he makes," Maddie whispered.

Maddie woke, her husband asleep in the bed with her. She didn't recall actually making it to the bed, let alone Scott joining her.

There had been a strange dream... a conversation with someone blue... it was fading quickly. But she remembered an image of a cord, fraying into a hundred threads. Words about possibilities and choices.

She could keep going, regardless of what Scott decided to do about Jean not being dead. If he stayed or left, her life would continue. Without giant purple thugs.

Her choices mattered in the future as well. She could remember that much from her dream.

Maybe that would be enough.

end Maddie Dreams: Choices.

End Maddie Dreams.


End file.
